Jesus Didn’t Die So You Could Be a Jerk in the Comments Section Post

Y’all.

At some point, someone’s gotta say it plainly:
Jesus didn’t endure state-sanctioned torture and execution so you could call strangers heretics from your couch while eating Chick-fil-A nuggets off your "God, Guns & Trump" coffee table tray.

It’s in the red letters, I promise – but some folks seem to think the Beatitudes said:

“Blessed are the keyboard warriors, for they shall gaslight the progressives.”

Let’s be honest – a lot of y’all aren’t defending the faith.
You’re just cosplaying as the Holy Spirit with a Wi-Fi connection and no sense of irony.

You skipped “Love your neighbor”
and jumped straight to
“Smite thy enemies with a barely-thought-out meme.”

Some of y’all got John 3:16 in your bio and Matthew 7:1 on Do Not Disturb.

And every time someone posts a picture of a queer couple or dares to suggest Jesus cared more about the poor than property values, you rise up like an unpaid intern for the Inquisition.

Look –
Jesus flipped tables.
You? You’re just flipping rude.

You’re out here calling people deceived while reposting prosperity preachers with Rolexes so big they’ve got their own gravitational field.

You’re defending a Messiah who said “turn the other cheek”
by typing like your thumbs are full of vengeance and evangelical caffeine.

Newsflash:
If your theology only works when you’re winning Facebook fights,
humiliating strangers,
and weaponizing Leviticus like it’s your personal burn book –
you might not be a witness.
You might be more of a sanctified mean girl than a follower of Jesus.

Jesus invited folks to the table.

You? You’re out here demanding ID, spiritual credit checks, and a background screening on their theology, and damning them to Hell before they can even whip out their wallets.

So before you type out your next “REPENT!!” rant in all caps,
remember:

Jesus didn’t say, “Let the one with the fastest internet cast the first insult.”

Try love.
Even online.
Even when it’s hard.
Even when the algorithm would rather see a fight.

Because here’s the real altar call, buttercup:

If your religion makes you cruel,
you’re doing it wrong.